The Beginning
by LadiSmilePretty
Summary: Sequel to Shelter: "It's a good ending." Sam noted from over the top of his beer, "You know, after all the stuff we've been through." "Nah," Jo smirked still looking around the room, "I think this is just the beginning."
1. Prologue

**I'm back! This is the sequel to Shelter, the one I've been going on and on about. I hope you guys enjoy! **

* * *

"_We're hunters, dad, not carpenters." Dean whined picking up the hammer. "This thing is gonna blow over with the first strong wind." _

_John barely spared a glance from the book he was flipping through to acknowledge his son's pessimism. "It's not that difficult, Dean. Just do as I say and it'll be fine." _

"_You sure you want to be living this close to Bobby?" Dean smirked feeling the old man step behind him. He got the reaction he expected when he received a swift slap to the back of the head. _

"_Don't be idjit," Bobby growled taking the hammer out of Dean's hands. "And help your father." _

And he did. Dean could see flashes of the house as a skeleton in his mind, putting up the dry wall with Sam, the rooms slowly forming. The kitchen in the back of the house, the dining room in the front, the living room across a small foyer, a small study in the back. He looked down quickly to see the scar on his thumb was there. The scar he received from the nail gun, placing down the flooring for one of the five rooms upstairs. No one ever said out loud how it had a striking resemblance to a house in Kansas.

He pulled up parallel to the house, a spot he knew in his gut that he'd parked in a thousand times. He scanned his eyes over the lot, everything is different, yet everything is exactly where it should be.

The wide gravel driveway he's on continues straight and then forks, one driveway veering sharply to the left. Harvelle's. He knew it.

There's now patches of grass where piles of wrecked cars used to be. He could still see them in the distance, although now they were contained to a designated area, instead of the haphazard heaps they used to be.

"We'll aren't y'all a sight for sore eyes?" A distinct female voice came from the porch steps.

Jo's head whipped around to meet her mother's gaze. "Mom?" He voice barely a whisper as she scampered out of the car. "Mom!" She exclaimed throwing herself into Ellen's waiting arms.

"Whoa," Ellen wrapped her arms around her daughter taking a step back, trying to keep her balance. "It must have been a doosey," She pulled back to look at Jo, "Come on, I'll heat you up some food."

"Well," Dean clapped his hands together looking over at Sam. "Let's get this show started."

Sam rolled his eyes and let himself out of the car.

"You guys alright?" John Winchester appeared from the side of the house, wiping his grease stained hands on a rag.

Sam nodded numbly, not taking his eyes from his father. "Yeah Dad."

John's brow creased, examining his youngest son. "Okay, Sammy."

Dean eased himself out of the driver seat.

"Dean." John greeted as he examined the Impala for any scratches or dents. He nodded in approval finding none.

"Dad." Dean nodded at him before he went to the trunk for his bag. He didn't want to seem too eager. He had just seen his father a week ago, but really it had been years. Dean's whole body was tense fighting the urge to hug his father, shake his hand, anything just to know he wasn't a hallucination.

John nodded his head toward the front door. "Ellen made dinner."

Jo walked aimlessly through the hallway of John's house. She examined every photo hanging on the walls, running her finger tips over the small cabinet there beneath them. Foggy memories of taking some of the photos and the days they were shot filtered through her mind.

A smile ghosted on her lips as she pushed the screen door open. She stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted John sitting in a rocking chair, a book in his lap.

"Jo." He greeted.

"Hello." She croaked. The old choke hold of fear and hatred of the man before her lingered even though the hazy memory of sitting at the kitchen table of this very house with that very man in front of her assaulted Jo's senses.

"Are you alright?" John cocked his head and studied her.

Jo felt exposed, "Yeah, I'm fine," Her voice came out in a breathy gasp.

"You seem skittish."

"Nope, cool as a cucumber."

"Jo."

"John." She was stalling. I was completely obvious, she cleared her throat, "Do you know where Dean is?"

John's brows furrowed, "I would assume he would be in your shared apartment."

Jo nodded, memories of the apartment above the garage came to her just as quickly as the others, "Yup, I'll go look there."

Jo pushed the door to the apartment open to find Sam and Dean sitting at the small dining table. "This is so weird." She exclaimed as she shut the door behind her.

"You're telling me." Sam muttered taking a chug of his beer.

Dean just watched Jo, waiting for her to look around at her surroundings.

As Dean knew they would, Jo's eyes roamed around the room. She could remember decorating the apartment with Dean, bickering over furniture or the placement of pictures, painting and... getting distracted during painting. She blushed at the memory.

The was an old worn in couch off to the right of the door, a small television set across from it. The kitchen was relatively small, but Jo didn't do much cooking, and whatever cooking they did, was at the house. Jo knew that much. There were two bedrooms down the hall. Sam had stayed in the second one for awhile, but quickly got sick of Jo and Dean and moved back into the house with John. Jo smiled remembering the day Sam told them he was moving out.

Jo picked up a candid photo of herself and Dean, smiling at each other, completely oblivious to the world around them. She found herself mirroring her own smile as she looked up at Dean. "It's all real, isn't it?"

Dean smiled back up at her, Sam too, "Yeah, I think it is." Dean stood and wrapped her in his arms.

"It's a good ending." Sam noted from over the top of his beer, "You know, after all the shit we've been through."

"Nah," Jo smirked still looking around the room, "I think this is just the beginning."

* * *

**Hope you guys liked it so far! Please please please let me know what you think! Please review! **


	2. Mary Ellen Honey Winchester

"_Dean, Dean, wait," Jo panted as Dean continued his assault down her neck. Her eyes practically rolled in the back of her head as his tongue swirled around an especially sensitive spot. "Oh god," She whimpered,her knees almost buckling as his hand trailed lower and lower down her side. _

_Dean tightened his arm around her, pressing her harder against the wall, his fingers toying with the buttons on her jeans. He dragged his lips up to her ear, "I'm sorry, did you say something." He slipped his fingers into the front of her pants. _

_Jo's hand twisted in his hair, her other clutching the front of his shirt. "Nope, nothing." _

_Dean smiled against her lips, pulling her lower one into his mouth with his teeth. "That's what I thought."_

Jo groaned out loud as the memory of how she got into this mess flashed before her eyes. She stared down at the little white stick in her hands, her knuckles turning white. The stick taunted her with it's solid line. Extremely solid line. "Shit." She placed the stick on the bathroom counter gently, her hand moving to cover her mouth. "Shit." The words muffled behind her hand.

Memories of an average man telling her she was the key to humanity, that she would pass it down to her children, to her daughter, flashed before her eyes. She couldn't place that responsibility on an infant, she would have to protect her daughter. She above all had to survive. Jo dropped her hands to her knees praying that Chuck could hear her, "Please let it be a boy. Please." Her stomach rolled, "Oh God, shit."

"Dean?" Jo cocked her head to look at him as his eyes glassed over, "Dean? Please say something."

"You're sure?" Dean asked not meeting her eyes.

Jo nodded, staring down at her hands knotting in her lap. "Three out of three tests don't lie."

"Okay." Dean nodded absolutely.

"Okay?" Jo asked turning her face up to look at him.

Dean finally looked at her. "Yeah, okay." He repeated.

"What do you mean, 'okay'?" She snapped at him. "We're not even married."

He turned in his seat to look at her better, "I mean okay, we can do this." He took her hand sighing, "If you want to get married I will take you to the court house right now and do the damn thing."

"No," Jo snatched her hand away from his. "It'd just be because I was pregnant."

Dean let out a chuckle grabbing her hand again, "After all we've been though?"

Jo rolled her eyes, the tension in her shoulders receding as she entwined her fingers with his.

"I don't want to be with anyone else but you. I don't need a piece of paper to remind me of that."

"I don't need one either but, Dean, what are we going to do?"

Dean placed his hands on either side of her face, "Jo, I love you, and I will love this baby too. Boy or girl." His eyes widened with realization for a moment, "Hopefully a boy. But if it is a girl, we'll do what we've always done."

"And what's that?"

"What we have to." Dean pulled her face to his and left a kiss on her forehead.

"Congratulations, it's a girl." The nurse smiled as she clicked a few buttons on the small computer. "I'll print you out a picture."

The knot of nerves Jo had in her stomach for the last few months tightened and she thought she might actually vomit.

Dean took the picture from the nurse, "Thank you." He gave her an appreciative nod, "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

"Of course," The nurse practically jumped out of her seat, "Sure, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dean waited until the door was closed before he passed the picture to Jo. "We'll do what we have to, right?"

Jo nodded looking from the picture down to her bulging stomach, "Yeah, we'll do what we have to." She looked up to Dean and smiled, "I love her." The realization of it suddenly dawning on her. "More than anything. And she's not even here yet."

Dean placed a hand on her cheek and one low on her belly, "I do too." He started to rub soothing circles on Jo's bump. "I hope she looks like you."

"You won't when she starts dating." Jo snorted remembering the ringers she had put her mother through.

"She's never going to date," Dean stated taking the picture from Jo's hand, "I'll send her to a convent."

Jo rolled her eyes, "Dean Winchester with a daughter. The irony alone is just amazing."

"Yeah, don't remind me." Dean groaned laying a kiss to Jo's temple.

"That's right baby, just keep breathing, you know, that thing from the Llamas class." Dean tried to reassure her, rubbing small soothing circles on her back.

"Fucking Lamas!" Jo screamed as another contraction wracked her small body. "We didn't go to a Goddamn petting zoo!"

The doctor raised his eyebrows, putting Jo's legs back together as he stood, "Well, you're ready for an epidural." He patted her knee trying to comfort her, "You're almost there, Jo."

Jo slumped back against the bed, her pain slowly receding as the contraction stopped. "Dean?" She croaked, her voice filled with fatigue.

"Yeah, baby," Dean responded sweetly. Jo was in too much pain to even notice that was the first time he had ever sounded that nice.

"I'm going to rip your balls off." Jo answered frankly. Dean glanced up at the nurses apologetically, both of which tried to hide there smirks.

"Jo," Dean tried to stop her, but she had other ideas.

She held up a finger to his lips, "I just can't decide what I'm going to do with them after that." She moved her hand to cup his cheek lovingly, "Should I shove them down your throat or make you smash them with a hammer? What do you think?"

Dean smirked down at her, "I think neither sounds pretty good. You never know, you might want another one some day." He gestured down to her stomach, pushing strand of hair off her forehead.

Jo shook her head vehemently removing her hand and resting it on her large belly. "Nope. One time thing. This is not happening again. Oh no."

Dean chuckled running a hand through her sweat drenched hair, "Oh come on, wait till you see all our good looks all mixed together." He kissed her temple, "You can't deny the world that kind of beauty."

Jo suddenly arched her back, her mouth making a perfect 'O', her brows furrowed in pain, "She doesn't think you're funny!"

"How about Ellen?" Jo asked never taking her eyes off of the small newborn wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms.

"As in your Mom?" Dean glanced up at her for just a moment, before his eyes were torn right back down to his daughter. His daughter. _Dean Winchester's daughter._ She wrapped her little fingers around his large one in her sleep, and he knew he was done for. Thankfully he owned many different kinds of shotguns.

"Yeah, why not?" Jo shrugged.

"Why not Mary then?" Dean argued.

"Cause my vote counts for two."

"Why's that?" Dean chuckled.

"I did all the work."

"I did some of the work."

"That was fun." Jo reasoned, "This," She gestured to herself and the sleeping infant in her arms, "This was not." She smiled down at the perfect blend of the both of them. She had Dean's nose and eyes, and Jo's cheeks and lips, she was perfect. "She's kind of worth it, though." She whispered in amazement at what they had created. "What about Mary Ellen?" She suggested.

"Yeah," Dean whispered, "Mary Ellen," He let one of his fingers gently drift down her small features. "But we gotta give her a cool nick name."

Jo smirked, "And why's that?"

"Well, what four year old do you know named Mary Ellen? It's all middle aged cougars."

Jo pursed her lips, "Point taken. But then we're back at square one."

"Mmhmm." Dean hummed leaning his head on Jo's, continuing to gaze down at little Mary Ellen.

A soft knock came from the door accompanied by a young nurse in teddy bear scrubs. "Hey y'all," She waved, her accent distinctly deep south, "I'm here to take your little one down to the nursery for the night, we recommend it for the first night. Let y'all get some sleep." She smiled.

"Uhm, no." Dean answered, there was no way he was letting Mary Ellen out of his sight.

Jo rolled her eyes smiling up at the nurse, she gave a tight nod.

The nurse took a couple steps forward until her hands rested on the railing at the foot of the bed. "Did I mention that my name is Leigh Fitzgerald?"

Dean stared at her, shaking his head, "And?"

"I'm Garth's cousin." Leigh smiled at him, pointing from the bassinet to Mary Ellen, "This ain't my normal job, but I _personally_ pulled strings than I would _not_ like to remember, just to cart your kid down to the nursery. I just started my shift and I'll bring her back up when I leave at 6am. And I put a devil's trap above the nursery _months _ago. You got no need to worry. She'll be safe as houses." Her acrylic nails clacked as she reached out to Jo, "Now, gimme that little honey-darlin'."

"Thanks so much for doing this Leigh," Jo said easing her daughter in Leigh's arms. "It really has been too long since I've seen you."

"Wait, what did you call her?" Dean interrupted staring up at Leigh.

Leigh placed Mary Ellen gently into the bassinet and wheeled it to the foot of the bed, "What, 'honey-darlin'? You guys took so long to name her, I had to call her something," She waved her hand at him, "I guess it just stuck." She looked down at the infant, "Her hair kinda looks like honey anyway, don'tcha think?" She moved closer to the door, "Well, I better let you guys get some shut eye. Night y'all."

Dean turned to Jo, his eyebrows raised. "What?" She asked.

"What about Honey?" He suggested.

"What about it?" Jo argued.

"I like it."

Jo sat back looking at him, "Honey?" She questioned, letting the name roll on her tongue, "Honey Winchester."

Dean glanced at the door, "Hey, you think about that," He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her lips, then her lips again, "I'm gonna go show Sam what I made."

Jo grinned his favorite toothy smile of hers and nodded. "Go show off."

"Mary Ellen Honey Winchester." Sam repeated, "Jesus, Dean, could you give her enough names?"

"Yeah, I know," Dean shrugged, accepting the cup of coffee his brother handed him, "But we'd call her Honey. I don't know, Jo's still thinking about it."

"Hm," Sam hummed as he took a sip. "Is that her?" He asked pointing through the glass at nurse wearing teddy bear scrubs carrying a small pink bundle through a doorway.

"Yeah, that's her." Dean confirmed, smiling proudly at his daughter.

Sam took a step closer to the glass to get a better look, "She's so small." He whispered, practically pressing his nose up to the window. "Honey Winchester." He mused. "I like it. It fits her."

"Yeah, I like it too." Dean agreed coming to stand next to his brother. He glanced up at Leigh through the glass and she wiggled her fingers at him.

Sam, who didn't miss the exchange, looked up incredulously at his brother, "You don't know her do you?" He asked fearing she was one of the many notches on Dean's belt.

Dean matched his brother's expression as he looked over at him, "No!" He sighed looking back down at his sleeping daughter. "She's Garth's cousin."

"No shit," Sam gawked up at the woman through the glass. "Garth obviously got the short end of the stick in that family."

"Oh, you better believe he did." Dean whistled over his coffee cup, as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see it was a text from Jo. 'I like Honey.' He turned and grin towards his little brother, "Well, it's official. That," He pointed at his first child, "is Mary Ellen _Honey_ Winchester."

"Mom. I have to feed her now." Jo let out an irritated sigh. People had been coming in and out of her hospital room all day to see the newest Winchester.

Ellen continued to rock the newborn, "Just a bit longer. I missed the actual birth anyway, you can give me a couple minutes to hold my granddaughter."

Bobby winced from the corner of the room. "I'm sorry." A few days prior to Jo going into labor Bobby had somehow convinced Ellen to take a 'quick' job in Tulsa, Oklahoma. They had missed the birth only by a few hours but had to wait until visiting hours began again the next morning.

Ellen glared over her shoulder as she placed Honey gingerly in Jo's arm. Her fingers lingering to ghost over the infants small features. She pulled away to cup her daughter's cheek, a watery smile plastered to her features.

Jo's breathing quickened, the growl of hell hounds and the rancid smell of blood and torn flesh assaulted her senses. She took a deep breath, silently reminding herself that it wasn't real, not here. Not anymore. She smirked thinking of the man that had changed everything. "She's perfect, Joanna." Ellen practically whispered the word, emotion choking her throat.

Jo turned to look down at the miracle in her arms, "She is, isn't she?"


	3. Hunting's A Breeze

**Warning: This gets a tad bit naughty ; )**

* * *

Sam stretched as far as he could in the passenger seat of the Impala, "Are you ready to get back to the madness?" He lifted an eyebrow at his brother, a smirk planted smugly on his face.

Dean ran a hand down his face, "It's summer vacation. Shit." He chuckled, "I forgot. Oh, poor Jo."

"Yeah, poor Jo." Sam repeated with a laugh, "She's been stuck with _all_ of your kids."

"You know, I never thought I'd say this with all the shit we've seen, but," Dean took a deep breath, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Hunting's a breeze, compared to those three. I mean, I love them and everything, but Will's barely a few months old and he's already taking after Ant and Honey."

"At least Jo has everyone around to help though." Sam noted.

"Yeah, but still, it takes three adults just to watch Honey alone."

"That was one time, okay."

"She was four."

"One time."

"Three hunters." Dean held up his fingers, "She locked all three of you in a freezer." He raised his eyebrows at him. "How does that happen?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't know, to this day, I have no clue," He shook his head again looking down at his lap, "She's quick, dude."

Jo leaned her forehead against the cold white tile of the shower. She let the steaming water pelt her back in an attempt to undo the knots her muscles had turned into. Her poor youngest, Will, at three months old, had already perfected a blood curdling scream. He had been crying for almost three days, just as long as Dean had been gone. Anthony hadn't stopped asking questions about _everything_ he could think of for a week. And Honey, well Honey was just a terror in herself.

Usually it's not as bad as this week, but Honey was home for summer vacation, somehow it all just seemed too hectic. She loved her children more than anything, but sometimes, just sometimes, she started to think they were possessed.

Dean had finally shown up this morning, Honey and Anthony dangling from his arms, as he entered the house. Jo had unceremoniously passed the screaming infant over into his father's arms and promptly declared that she quit for the day. This was the first time all week that she heard no noise coming through the door. Honey was not yelling about how something was unfair or her brother took her toy, Anthony was not tattling on his sister, and there were no screams coming from the nursery. She sighed contentedly, basking in the short lived silence.

Dean held his breath as he set Will down in his crib. He had finally tired himself out and hopefully should be down for at least an hour. Dean leaned on the railing staring down at the infant in awe. In all his years he never thought he would make it here.

Dean shut the door to the nursery as quietly as he could. He could here the shower running in the master bedroom. A wicked smirk forming on his lips an idea forming.

He pushed his daughter's ajar door open the rest of the way and peaked in to see her shoving Barbie dolls into the small replica of their house Bobby had made for her. Her little brother Anthony driving a matchbox car over a Barbie's head. "Hey, Honey, why don't you take Anthony outside and go play?"

Honey sighed rolling her eyes, "Why can't I stay inside?" She challenged him. She was too much like her mother.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Cause I said so, now go." Dean patted her bottom as she stomped past him.

He watched from the window as Honey held her little brother's hand all the way to Bobby's before he locked the front and back door, grabbing the baby monitor, he made his way up to the master bathroom.

Jo felt the cold breeze as the bathroom door opened. "Dean?" She asked praying that it wasn't one of the kids. There was no answer except for the sound of a belt buckle hitting the tile floor. She smiled as she ran a soapy cloth up her arm. "You know, this is why we have so many damn kids."

Her stomach tightened at the rumble of his laughter, "No," He corrected pulling back the curtain and stepping in behind her, "This is why why have Will." He reminded her as he left a kiss on her wet shoulder.

"Oh yeah," she feigned ignorance with a coy smile, leaning into him. "Then where did the other two come from?"

Dean smiled against her skin as the memory of conceiving all his children flashed through his mind, his hand snaking around her bare hip. "Well that witch in Santa Fe was completely to blame for Honey and it's the Impala's fault we have Anthony." His mouth made a messy trail from her shoulders up to her neck and just below her ear.

Jo lifted her hand and cupped the back of his head to bring him closer, "Where are they?" She breathed heavily as his hand traveled lower and lower.

Dean's teeth grazed the side of her neck, "I sent Honey and Anthony outside and locked the door. Will is finally asleep." He slipped a finger inside her.

Jo nodded, barely hearing what he said as he bit down on the shell of her ear. "Good," She turned in his arms, attacking his lips. Three days was far too long.

Dean wasted no time wrapping an arm around her waist and tangling his hand in her wet hair. "God, I missed you," He breathed into her mouth.

"Shut it," She teased slipping a hand between them and sliding her small hand up and down his manhood, "No time for talking."

Dean growled as he pushed her up against the cold tile walls eliciting a pleased squeal from Jo. "In that case." He lifted her up by her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

"Oh God," She moaned trying to find purchase on the slippery tile with her hands, she finally wrapped an arm around his strong shoulders to give herself the leverage she needed.

She clamped down on him and he thought he was going to see stars. "Jo," He growled, if she kept that up he wasn't going to last long. He slid an expert hand in between them to tease the ball of nerves between her thighs. He got the reaction he wanted when Jo dug her nails into his shoulders, smiling into her shoulder he kept thrusting into her, harder and deeper with each one.

"Oh God, Dean," She panted into his ear. "Don't stop, please, oh God." He pulled back just enough to crush his lips against hers, trying his best to drown out the scream he knew was coming. They had done this too many times, every which way you could think, hell, he could mold her body out of clay in his sleep. He knew every contour, every freckle, every curve, after ten years, or twelve, depending on who you asked, he should know. And three days with out her was just far too long. Jo bit down on her bottom lip as she ground her hips against his, "Please," She begged as he flicked at her sensitive bud, "Please, Dean."

Dean almost came right then and there. He could feel her fluttering against him with the beginning of her orgasm, quickly he covered her mouth with his to muffle her scream as he kept thrusting into her. Jo's body shook with pleasure under his hands. He followed shortly after her, letting her legs fall off his hips one at a time, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Hi." He whispered, smiling as he pulled back to look at her.

Jo laughed realizing they hadn't had a proper greeting, she had just handed him Will and ran to take a shower. She cupped his cheek, bringing his lips to hers for a tender kiss, "Well hello there, Winchester."

And then there was a pounding on the door.

"Mommy!" Honey screamed through the door. "I can't find Daddy."

"I thought you said you locked the door." Jo hissed at Dean.

"I did. Both of them." Dean defended himself. "She must have picked the lock." He suggested.

"Dean, she's nine." Jo rolled her eyes.

"Well, she is my kid after all," He responded with a proud smirk.

"Did you check the garage, Honey?" Jo called out to her daughter.

"Yup, and Grandpa John's and Grandpa Bobby's and the Roadhouse. Not there." She answered wiggling the door handle, "Can I come in?"

"No!" Jo shouted a bit too quickly, "Uh, no," She said slower turning off the water, "I'll be right out. Why don't you go wait outside? And be quiet, Will is sleeping."

Honey's complaints were muffled by the door, but her feet stomping down the steps were hard to miss, so was the wailing cry that ripped through the baby monitor.

Jo groaned, Dean wrapped a towel around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her nose, "I'll go see what Honey needs, you grab Will."

"I'm going to lock all three of them in Bobby's bunker until they grow up." Jo threatened as she tightened the towel around her chest.

Dean laughed drying himself off as well and pulling his pants on. "Where would we put the SOB's?" He joked.

"Just stick 'em in there with the kids. Ten minutes with Honey complaining, Anthony whining and Will crying, they'll be beggin' us to kill 'em." Jo smirked as she unlocked the bathroom door and headed to the nursery.

Dean gave her a slap on the ass as she passed him, slipping on his shirt, he made his way down the stairs. The front door was wide open, the lock pick Honey used was still hanging out of the key slot. "Honey!" Dean bellowed out the door, taking the utensils in his hand, he pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch.

"Yes Daddy?" Honey asked innocently as she popped her head over the side of the porch. Dean raised his eyebrows at her, shaking the lock pick in the air, "Oh." Her face fell as she tried to shrink under the porch again.

"No Honey, come here." He said curling a finger at her. Honey hung her head shuffling her feet up the three steps, her shoe laces dragging limply behind her. Dean took a seat in his father's rocking chair pulling his daughter into his lap and began to tie her shoes. "I thought I told you to stay out of my duffel bag."

"It wasn't in the bag." Honey argued as she watched him tie her neon pink shoe laces.

Dean rolled his eyes, definitely too much like her mother. "That means the pockets too."

Honey's bottom lip pouted as she looked up at her father. "Are you mad?"

He sighed leaning back in the rocking chair, "No, I'm not mad, I'm disappointed."

Honey bowed her head and sniffed, "That's worse."

"Yeah," He agreed pulling her down to his chest, he twirled one of her honey colored curls around his finger. "It definitely is."

"I'm sorry," Honey sniffed again, snuggling herself into the crook of her father's arm.

"It's okay," He dropped a kiss on her head, she smelled like grass and sunshine. "Just cut it out."

Honey nodded feebly before she pulled back and looked at him with her brows furrowed. "Why's your hair wet?"

"Uh," Dean looked into the junk yard to the right of the house, "Where's your brother?" He asked avoiding her question.

She eyed him suspiciously, "He's with Grandpa John."

Thankfully Jo came out on the porch, Will in her arms, "Why don't you go get him? I'm gonna start dinner soon, I want you all bathed before then."

Honey groaned, pushing herself off her father and marching down the steps, "I have to do everything," She mumbled throwing her hands in the air.

"She gets that from you." Jo teased as Dean took the swaddling blanket from her and draped it over his shoulder.

"I'm not that dramatic." Dean defended himself, taking the infant in his arms.

"No?" Jo raised her eyebrows handing him the bottle. "I could give you some examples if you want."

Dean glared up at her as Will sucked noisily on the bottle.

Jo let out a bark of laughter at his silence as she turned to go back into the house.

"Dad!" The toddler yelled as he rounded a stack of cars, his chubby little legs tripping over rocks in the gravel driveway. John came up behind him and caught him by the shirt collar before he face planted.

"Slow down there," He said, resetting his grandson on the ground.

"Tanks Grampa." Anthony mumbled as he kept running up the stairs. "Dad, look what Grampa Bobby gave me." He held up a wooded gun, a replica of the one that Dean carried.

"Nice," Dean acknowledged, shifting Will in his hand to take the toy gun Anthony handed him. It was definitely smaller than the real version, this one had to fit in a three year old's hand. He turned it over in his hands inspecting the engraving marks and designs on it. It was almost exactly the same, except for the small initials A.R.W. chiseled into the bottom.

"It's just like yours." Anthony pushed, "Now I can be a superhero too!" He exclaimed snatching the toy out of his father's hands and running into the house shouting 'bang, bang, bang'.

John eased himself in the chair next to his son, and Dean turned his attention back to the baby in his arms. Will stared straight up at Dean as he finished the last dregs of the bottle.

"He looks just like you." John noted absently as he stretched his legs out in front of him, his grease stained hands folded in his lap.

Dean laughed, "Which one?"

John laughed along with his son, "Well, all of them. Honey, I swear she's a clone of you."

Dean shook his head, the bright blonde hair of his daughter caught his eye from across the yard, "Nah, she's all Jo."

John disagreed. "She may have her looks, but there is no doubting she's your daughter."

Dean smiled as Honey squealed when Sam snuck up behind her and threw her over his shoulder, her giggly laugh filled the late summer afternoon.

"Hey guys," Sam greeted as he passed them to go into the house, Honey laughed with every step, still slung over her uncle's shoulder.

"It's too high!" She squealed as the door shut behind them. "You're too damn tall."

"Honey. Language." Dean warned through the screen door.

"You're in trouble now," Sam teased as he put her down.

"Go take a bath before dinner," Dean ordered his eldest, his response was the familiar sound of her sneakers stomping up the wooden steps.

John laughed as he reached for Will, "Yeah, all Jo." He let out sarcastically. "Here, I'll burp him." He pulled the infant into his lap, "Your dad has to go deal with his clone."

"Thanks," Dean eased himself out of the rocking chair and went to follow his daughter inside. He spared a fleeting glance at his father holding his infant son, he smiled remember this almost never happened. He thanked Chuck silently before he closed the door behind him.

Once Dean cleared the threshold, Anthony was glued to his leg. He wrapped his small arms and legs around his calf and refused to let go. "Jo?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchen, dragging the three year old with him. "You need help?"

Jo glanced over her shoulder with a smile before turning back to the stove, "No, but it looks like you do."

Dean grinned down at Anthony, "What? This little monster?" He reached down and flipped Anthony upside down. "Nah, this one's easy." He said leaning against the counter, the toddler in his strong grasp, watched his mother cook.

"Well, that's good." She leaned over and left a chaise kiss Dean's lips. "I don't have time to break in another boyfriend."

"Ewww." Anthony scrunched up his face at his parent's affection. "Gross."

Jo reached over and tickled his exposed stomach, "Yeah, eww." She turned to look up at Dean pointedly, "Bath, please?"

"Yes, ma'am. On it." Dean saluted then flipped Anthony right side up, "Come on little man."

"Daddy?" Anthony sunk the rocket ship he was holding into the bubble filled bath.

"Yeah, Ant?" Dean responded absently, filling up a cup of water to get the soap out of Anthony's hair. "Tilt your head back."

Anthony let his head fall back all the way. "Honey said that monsters are real." He turned his brown eyes to meet his fathers.

"She did?" Dean tipped the cup of water on his son's hair.

"Yeah, are they?"

"That is a really good question... For your mother." He smiled down at Anthony, giving him a wink at the uncertainty that colored his son's face. "You have nothing to worry about, no monsters can get in this house."

Anthony nodded, wiping the excess water off his face, trusting his father implicitly. "Okay. Cool." It only took his little face to scrunch at the nose with an question on the tip of his tongue. "What kind of monsters are there?"

"You're gonna have to ask your mom."

Anthony rolled his eyes, his shoulders slouching as he heaved a heavy sigh, "Fine."

"I don't like broccoli," Honey whined sliding further in her chair.

"Honey, sit up." Jo groaned as she pulled Honey's chair closer to the table. "Just eat it. It's good for you."

Honey leaned her elbow on the table resting her head in her hands, a severe pout pulling her features down. "But I don't like it."

"Dean." Jo hissed from across the table, turning her attention back to the infant she was trying to feed.

"Honey." Dean turned his eyes on his daughter at the end of the table. "Eat your food."

"But Daddy," Honey cried.

"Mary Ellen, if you don't eat your broccoli you're going to bed." Dean pointed an authoritative finger at her.

Honey glared at her father as she shoved a piece of broccoli in her mouth.

"Mommy?" Anthony piped up from on top of his booster chair.

"Yeah sweetie," Jo glanced at him before she turned her attention back to Will.

"Are monsters real?"

The loud clank of Dean's fork dropping on his plate was the only sound in the room as Jo glared daggers at Dean.

"Daddy told me I had to ask you." Anthony added.

"Thanks, bud." Dean sighed as he bowed his head.

Jo looked down at Anthony and smiled, "No, they're not." She lied.

"Honey said they were." Anthony argued.

Honey's eyes went wide as she quickly shoved another piece of broccoli in her mouth.

"She did?" Jo repeated Dean's words from earlier. Jo looked pointedly at her daughter. "Well, Honey's wrong."

Honey nodded, understanding her mother's meaning behind her words. Anthony was not old enough to know the truth.

"Then why did she say that?"

"I was trying to scare you." Honey interjected.

"I'm not scared." Anthony argued looking at his sister in shock. "I'm not scared of monsters."

"Oh yeah?" Jo teased, a sincere smile twisting it's way on her lips.

"Nope, not scared."

"Why's that?" Dean cocked his head to look down at his son.

Anthony puffed out his chest and sat straighter in his chair. "I'm brave."

Dean laughed as he reached across and ruffled the hair on Anthony's head. "You sure are, little man."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah Ant?" Dean responded as he tucked he oldest son into bed.

"Where did you go?"

"Me and Uncle Sam went on a hunting trip." The lie him and Jo decided to go with had been an easy one. It was the same their parents had used.

"Oh." Anthony's brows furrowed. "What were you hunting?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." Dean leaned down and kissed Anthony's forehead.

Anthony sighed. "You always say that."

Dean chuckled, "Because one day I you'll be old enough and I'll tell you." He ruffled the hair on Anthony's head. "Go to bed kiddo."

Anthony nodded, rolling over and pulling the blankets up to his chin. Dean stood and turned out the light.

"Daddy?" Anthony said, slightly panicked.

Dean turned back to look at his son.

"Can you leave the light on?"

Dean smiled, walking across his the bedroom to click on the night light. "No monster can get you in here."

"Monster's aren't real." Anthony said in a small voice.

"That's right buddy." Dean quietly exited his son's room and continued his nightly ritual, when he was home, and entered his daughters room.

Honey looked like a deer caught in the headlights as her father entered the room. She shoved the Barbie's in the doll house.

"Time for bed munchkin." Dean said clapping his hands.

Honey sighed, but did as she was told and climbed into bed. "Daddy?"

"Yeah Honey?" Dean smiled at the similarities of his children.

"What were you hunting?" She asked eagerly.

"Honey." Dean warned.

"Please?" She begged. "I won't tell mommy." Honey promised holding out her pinky finger.

Dean smirked, it was times like these where he saw himself in his daughter. "Alright." He took her pinky and shook, looking over his shoulder, making a showing of looking for someone listening to their conversation. "We were hunting a ghost."

Honey's eyes widened in excitement. "Did it hurt anyone?"

Dean tucked the blankets around her arms, "It was getting pretty rowdy," Dean admitted. In actuality, it had killed three people. "But it's gone now. No need to worry." He assured her.

Honey nodded. "Good."

"Alright," Dean leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep."

"Daddy?" Honey called, "Are you going to leave again?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I will be here when you wake up tomorrow."

"Promise?"

Dean held out his pinky finger.

Honey accepted it silently.

"Nine is too young." Jo whispered as Dean entered the nursery.

"I knew at nine." Dean came to stand at the side of the crib, picking up a stuffed bear and toying with it in his hands.

Jo glanced up at him, "It's different now, Dean." She urged. "It's all different."

Dean finally looked up at met Jo's eyes, his youngest child asleep in her arms. "Yeah..." He agreed. "It is."

* * *

**So what do you think? Come on! Let me know! Scroll down and review already! **


	4. Placating

The muffled voices of Will's parents became more and more clear with every step he gingerly took. He pressed himself against the wall creating as small a shadow as he could.

Will knew there was something going on. He could feel the tension building all day. It almost suffocated him during dinner. His mother kept quiet through the whole meal, making quick glances to where his sister would have sat had she been home.

But then again Honey hadn't been home in a long time.

His father's shoulders were taunt and set with frustration. He didn't eat the meal that Mom had made, instead he had decided to drink glass after glass of his favorite whiskey.

"But why you?" Jo's voice strained in an attempt at a whisper. Her aggravation clearly painted with her words.

"Jo," Will could hear his father sigh, "Who else is there?"

Will heard the flop of his mother's hand hitting the arm of the couch, "It doesn't always have to be a Winchester." Jo argued.

Will could imagine the look on his father's face from years of experience. The wrinkles on his forehead creasing, the corners of his mouth turning down into a grimace. "Jo, what am I supposed to do here? We've been given an opportunity to make the world better for our kids, who are out there everyday risking their lives."

"Yeah, what about our kids?" Jo challenged. "What are you going to tell them?"

Silence filled the house, Dean didn't plan on telling them anything. That much was obvious.

"Unbelievable." Jo mumbled to herself, the couch cushions groaning as she got up from her seat. Will almost began to retreat up the stairs but something his mother said kept him rooted to the steps. "Will is only eighteen. You were twenty six when John died."

Will's brows creased, Grandpa John died when Will was a kid, and Dean was far older than twenty six.

"That was different." Dean countered. "I didn't have a mother to look after me. Or two older siblings for that matter."

"He's not ready for this."

"He's not or you're not?"

"Dean." Jo begged. "Please."

"It's got to be done, Jo." Will's father's gruff voice floated softly out of the room. It was a tone that Will knew very well, it was the same tone he used to teach Will how to ride a bike, or how to fix a car, the soft tone of placating.

Jo sighed, her breath choked with emotion she was trying to swallow. "How long?"

"I don't know. It could be weeks, months, years. Depends on how quickly the tablets can be translated and how long each task takes. I just don't know."

Will crouched down on the stairs and peaked his head around the corner.

Dean lounged back in his recliner and Jo was on the opposite side of the room, perched on the arm of the couch. She nodded slowly, chewing on her bottom lip as she stared down at the ground, no doubt her mind was flipping through a hundred different scenarios. "Okay," She whispered, nodding again with a bit more force. Her brown eyes looked up to meet Dean's green. "It's got to be done, right?" She repeated his words.

Dean bowed his head, he knew as well as Will, Jo didn't mean it. She was just placating him like he had done her. They would never see eye to eye on this.


	5. Gotta Be Done

"I can't protect you from this." Chuck said bowing His head. It had been almost thirty years since Dean had seen Him.

"Yeah, I figured I was coming up on my ninth life." Dean shuffled his feet, shoving his hands in his leather jacket, "But it's gotta be done right?"

"I suppose." Chuck nodded, "I just wish it wasn't you."

Dean snorted, "You and me both."

"Will you tell your children?"

Dean glared at Him for a moment and then seemed to loose the will to fight. He shook his head. "They don't know it's this deep." He raised an eyebrow up at Chuck, "I don't want them to ever know."

"And Jo?"

Dean rubbed a hand down his face, letting his chin meet his chest. His silence said a thousand words.

"I understand." Chuck said slowly letting His hands meet behind His back as He began to pace, "I just want you to know, that me, all powerful God, doesn't want this. Not this way." He sighed bowing His head in remorse, He looked up to Dean, His eyes filled with sadness, a frown pulling His features down, "But as I'm sure you've already figured out, there's no other way."

Dean pursed his lips as he shrugged, "Gotta be done, right?"

Chuck studied his face, before He nodded slowly, "Gotta be done." He answered. "I guess I'll be seeing you soon."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, maybe even the _real_ Chuck."

He laughed with Dean, "Oh, yeah, definitely."

* * *

**Sorry this ones so short, but I like this one, it's nice and simple. **

**There's one more chapter left, and no I'm not magic I had all of these pretty much written up, so here, enjoy the fruits of my labor, and please, please, tell me what you think of them! **


	6. Right Before The End

Anthony knew it as soon as the Impala passed the gate. He stood on the steps of Grandma Ellen's house, just as he had done for Grandpa John and Grandpa Bobby.

Will rushed out of the house, just as he had every time before. This time Anthony was ready for him. He grabbed Will by the shirt collar to stop him.

Will looked back at him horrified. He knew it too.

Grandma Ellen came to stand behind both of them, "Anthony? You better call your sister." She pursed her lips pulling Will to her side, "Come on baby, let's go see your mom." Will dragged his feet as they headed over to the house.

Anthony could see his mother standing in the upstairs window, staring down at the Impala. She glanced up and caught her eldest sons gaze and he saw nothing. No emotion passed over her features, she was like a stone. She was expecting this.

The Impala parked in front of the house and the lone occupant got out. Aunt Sarah rushed out onto the front porch, the very youngest Winchester, Robbie not far behind. She threw herself into Uncle Sam's arms, probably crying and thanking God that he was alright.

Anthony turned from the scene at the sound of gravel shifting, Tyler came around the side of Grandma Ellen's house wiping his grease stained hands on a rag. "What's going on?" He asked before he stopped in his tracks. He saw his mother and father but there was no Uncle Dean. He turned back to his cousin for some sort of explanation, "Ant?" He already knew.

Anthony bowed his head, his eyes trained on his sneakers as he took a deep breath, he shook his head. "I have to call Honey."

Tyler crouched down, wiping a tired hand over a dirty face, "Oh... Fuck." He squinted in the sun as he looked up at Anthony.

Anthony stared at the scene across the yard nodding his head in agreement. "Mmhmm."

"Honey, you have to come home."

"I can't right now, Ant." Honey groaned as she leaned back in the rickety old chair of the motel room she was staying in. "I'm in the middle of a case."

"Dad's dead."

Silence. Honey couldn't speak. For once in her twenty eight years of life, she had absolutely no words.

"Honey? You there?"

"Yeah," Honey breathed into the phone. "I'll call Krissy, give her the case. Give me like eight hours."

"Mom hasn't said a word."

Honey felt like she had been punched in the chest. "How long?"

"Ever since he left."

"She knew."

Anthony let go of a shaky breath, "Of course she knew."

"Okay, just... Tell her..." Honey trailed off not able to say the words she desperately needed to, "Fuck," She cursed shaking her head and pulling the phone away from her ear. She wasn't good at this kind of stuff. Emotions were something that she just couldn't handle so she stayed numb. She closed herself off and when things got tough she would run away, it was what she had always done. But this. She couldn't run from this. From him. Not again. She took a deep breath and put the phone back to her ear, "Ant? Tell her I'll be home soon."

"You know what Honey," Anthony started, his voice strained and irritated before he sighed, and Honey could just see him now. Shoulders hunched, head hung low, his sandy brown hair sticking up in the back, his eyes trained to the floor in concentration. She could hear him take a couple deep breaths before he finally spoke. "You better be." Click.

It was almost a minute before Honey took the phone away from her ear and flipped it closed. She placed it gently on the table next to her and pulled her knees up to her chin. Her father was dead. Dean Winchester had finally bit the dust.

Honey stared at the wall in front of her not really seeing anything. She opened her phone and went to her recent calls and pressed send. She uncurled herself from the chair and anxiously paced the room listening to the phone ring and ring and ring. Until it hit voice mail. His voice filling her ear and her eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

She hung up scrolling through her contacts for his other numbers, trying each one and failing. She threw the phone with all the force she could manage against the wall. As it shattered so did she.

Honey couldn't remember what happened after her knees hit the floor. She didn't remember packing her things or calling Krissy, she didn't even remember the six hour drive home. The next thing she knew she was stuffing her keys back in her purse and walking up the steps to her childhood home.

Anthony leaned forward in the his Dad's lazy-boy as the screen door slammed shut. He should have known it was her, he chastised himself as he slumped back in the chair. Always having to make a goddamn entrance.

"Hey," She called from the doorway, her duffel bag still slung over her shoulder.

"Hey Honey."

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs."

She pursed her lips as she nodded, turning on her heel she marched up the stairs.

Her room was exactly the way she had left it. Honey dumped her bag on the old twin bed and quickly exited. Too many memories of the last time she was here flooded her mind. She slammed the door in her haste and winced against the sound.

She turned to look down the hall at her parents bed room. Light from the room fought through the ajar door to lighten the dark hallway. Honey tip-toed her way to the door, peeking around the opening.

Her mother sat in an old rocking chair and stared out the window at that damn car as if he was going to jump out of it at any moment. Honey pushed the door open gently, "Mom?" She croaked into the deafening silence of the room. She took a tentative step over the thresh-hold. "Mom." She tried again.

Jo didn't budge.

Honey shuffled her feet until she was in front of her mother and then knelt, placing her hands on Jo's lap. "Mom?"

Jo looked down at her daughter, patted Honey's hand and returned to her silent vigil.

"And what made you think I hadn't tried that?" Anthony scoffed over the top of his beer.

"I didn't say that, I just told you what happened." Honey snapped at him.

"Well, I tried that already. So did Grandma, and Uncle Sam, and Aunt Sarah, and Will, and Tyler, and Robbie, and Garth-"

"Alright!" Honey cut him off, "I get it. I'm late to the party."

Anthony let go of a sardonic chuckle, "No shit Sherlock."

"Anthony." Honey reached a hand out to him over the table.

He glanced at it coldly before he crossed his arms over his chest.

Honey slid her hand back into her lap, "You're still mad at me."

"No, we're cool." His words dripped with sarcasm. "I'm surprised you even came."

"We may have not had the best relationship, but he was still my father." Honey defended herself. "I love him just as much as you do."

"Could of fooled me."

Honey let her head dip back with a sigh, "I said I was sorry." She groaned turning her gaze back on him. "It wasn't even about you. It was all between him and me."

"Yeah, but everyone else got caught in the crossfire." Anthony argued slamming his beer on the table.

"I'm sorry." Honey pleaded. "Please, Ant?"

Anthony studied her, his jaw tensing just as their father's would when he was too frustrated to think straight. He snatched his beer from the table and walked out the back door.

"I forgave you, Honey." Will's soft voice came from the doorway.

"Hey Will," Honey waved for him to take a seat next to her. "Everyone hates me, don't they?"

Will sunk his lengthy body in the chair. "No, just Ant."

"Great." Honey took a deep pull on her beer.

Will slouched further in his chair, clearly pouting.

No matter how old he got Honey would always she him as blonde haired toddler clinging to her legs. "I'm sorry I haven't been around."

Will gave her a heavy nod. "I know."

Honey dipped her head to catch his eye, "I love you William."

Will sighed not meeting her gaze, "I love you too Mary Ellen."

Honey punched him playfully in the shoulder.

"How's Jo doing?" Sarah asked quietly as she set her husbands dinner in front of him.

Sam shook his head, "Not good. Anthony says she hasn't left the room yet."

"Hmm." Sarah put her chin in her hand, "I knew it wasn't going to be as easy as she was making it."

Sam shook his head again, "She's strong but..." He thought back to a different time, "He was her rock. She wouldn't have made it without him. And vise versa."

Sarah watched her husband worry grow for his common law sister-in-law. "How are you doing?"

Sam sighed, his eyes meeting Sarah's. He shook his head one more time, tears welling in his eyes.

"We should have a real funeral. I know you brought him back with you." Sarah urged. "There are plenty of people in this world who love to pay their respects to your brother. Dean deserves the biggest pyre you can make."

Sam was interrupted by a soft knock on the back door. Honey opened the door and peeked her head around, "Can I come in?"

"Mary Ellen," Sam stood and opened his arms out to her, she cringed at the name. "How are you sweetie?"

Honey shrugged into her uncle's hug. "Not too good. My brother hates me, my mother won't talk, and my father's dead."

"Yeah," Sam shrugged holding her at arms length, matching her sarcasm, "My brother's dead, so I know how you feel."

Honey gave Sam a watery smile, "I'm sorry Uncle Sam," She said sincerely.

"I'm sorry too." Sam gave her another squeeze before he ushered her to the table.

"Here, eat something," Sarah insisted, shoving a plate toward her.

"Thanks." Honey accepted but barely picked at it.

"Honey, I was just telling Sam," Sarah broke the silence, "That we should have a big funeral pyre. Invite everyone. The man saved the world who knows how many times..."

Honey nodded, barely listening. She looked up at Sam, "Was it worth it?"

Sam bowed his head, knowing what she meant. "Honestly?" He looked up at his niece, "I'm not so sure."

"Yeah," Honey agreed. "Me too."

Will grabbed the empty beer bottles off a vacant table of the Roadhouse, dropping in the bucket and shuffling his feet to the next table.

Ellen watched her grandson with an ache in her heart. "William, come here babe." She said waving him over to the bar. "Come on, take a seat."

Will set the bucket on the bar next to him and did as his grandmother told him.

Ellen put both hands on the bar, studying Will's face. "What's going on in that head of yours?" She asked sweetly.

Will sighed, the action raising his shoulders and drastically letting them fall. "No one will tell me what happen. No one will tell me why he died, or what killed him. Tyler knows! And he's a year younger than me! I deserve to know." All the frustration of the day finally bubbling over.

Ellen nodded, "You do, sweetheart." She sighed, "Your father closed Hell. Forever." She answered bluntly. "And no doubt, Tyler found out from eavesdropping."

"He did what?" The remote possibility of it was beyond Will. He couldn't fathom that his dad was able to accomplish the impossible.

"He completed trials, that ultimately led to the greatest sacrifice and closed Hell."

"Why him?" Will looked up at his grandma, sorrow, confusion and, above all, pain filling his hazel eyes. "Why couldn't it be anyone else?" He sobbed. "Why did it have to be my dad?"

Ellen rushed around the bar and wrapped Will up in her arms. "I know, sweetie," She cried with him, "I'm so sorry." Was all she could say.

"But he's a hero, so it's kind of..." Tyler trailed off, not sure where he was going with his attempt at comfort.

"Worth it?" Anthony suggested, "Alright? Cool? What?!"

"I'm sorry, man," Tyler shook his head rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't know what to say."

Anthony kicked a rock as he leaned against the car Tyler was trying to fix up. "Yeah," He sighed, "I know."

"How's Honey taking it?" Tyler asked turning his attention back under the hood.

Anthony took a long swig of his beer. "Like Honey. Like a rock. She's like a cyborg, her own father dies and she can't scrub up a scrap of emotion."

Tyler looked around the car at his cousin, "She's here, isn't she." He looked back under the car, "She cares man, she just doesn't know how to show it. My dad and I were talking about it, he says she's a lot like how Uncle Dean used to be."

"Dad must have been a bitch." Anthony muttered as he took another gulp.

Tyler laughed, pointing the wrench he was using at Anthony, "Dad said you are too and that's why you and Honey butt heads so much." He went back to work again, "Maybe if you two talked about it, maybe got over the past, just maybe you would be able to, I don't know, be friends again. You guys were a good team once."

Anthony took the last chug of his beer as he watched Uncle Sam and Honey take his father out of the Impala.

Tyler saw too, "My mom called all the hunters, some civilians too. The pyres tomorrow."

Anthony nodded.

It was late, in a couple of hours the sun would be up. Honey couldn't sleep. She sat in the living room staring at the chair her Dad always sat in.

It was that simple. Just a stupid chair had made her stop in her tracks, her heart seizing in her chest. She never liked that chair, but he did. Dean loved it. Honey buried her head in her hands and cried. All the anger she held against him seemed pointless now, so stubborn and stupid. All the time she had wasted staying away from him.

The sobs wracked her body and she thought it might just break her ribs. She wasn't aware of how loud she was and had long forgotten what time it was. She didn't hear the creaks on the stairs or register that a light had been turned on.

All she knew was that her little brother Anthony was holding her now. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her, not saying anything. He stayed there with her until she had run out of tears.

"You okay?" Anthony whispered.

Honey nodded, wiping the tears from her face, "Stupid chair."

Anthony laughed, "Yeah, it got me once too."

Honey nodded again meeting her brother's eyes. "I'm really sorry, you know?" She reached out to cup his cheek and he let her.

"I know," Anthony responded. "Just... Just don't leave again." His voice was so soft, he reminded her of the child he was, of the kid she had left behind.

They had done everything together. They were inseparable. Grandpa Bobby would always tell them how much they were like Sam and Dean. Dependent on each other. A new sorrow clutched Honey's heart as fresh tears welled in her eyes. "You're stuck with me kid."

Anthony smiled and Honey saw their father, and smiled too.

"You should make a speech." Anthony turned to his sister.

"Me?" Honey asked incredulously, "Why me?"

"You're a better writer, one. Mom won't, two. Uncle Sam doesn't want to, three, and you're the oldest, four. So do it.

"What do I even say?" Honey cried, "The funeral starts in four hours, people are already showing up."

"Just write the first thing that comes into your mind." Anthony argued, "Hurry up." He barked as he raced down the driveway to open the gates. A man in a white shirt stood waiting to be let in.

"Ugh," Honey stormed into the house, like she must have done a thousand times. She stopped dead when she saw her mother in the living room. "Mom?" She asked taking a tentative step toward her. She looked around the room for her grandmother. "Are you okay?"

Jo turned to look at Honey, a curious look on her face. "Do you remember when your dad used to come home from a hunt? When you were little?"

Honey nodded, "Yeah, I remember."

"You used to race across the yard and he would catch you and throw you up in the air." Jo continued.

"I remember, mom."

"Good. Don't forget that. Forget the fights, and the anger, and all of the bullshit, but remember that moment. And remember he loved you." Jo nodded, silent tears falling down her face. Without another word she turned and went back upstairs.

* * *

**Alright this is for real, this is the end. I hope you liked it, please, please let me know what you think! REVIEW NOW! Thanks again! **


	7. Sioux Falls Elementary

**I don't think I'll every be fully done with this story. I'll always have some kind of idea for a chapter. So here's something that was inspired by a cell phone commercial lol. **

* * *

Jo crossed her legs as she took a seat in the last row of the metal folding chairs. She looked around the small makeshift auditorium that also doubled as the lunch room. The kids had decorated the room for the occasion with black and orange crepe paper streamers hanging haphazardly around the room and construction paper monsters hung at different corners. Jo smiled when she caught sight of her daughters. A wendingo. Her father had insisted on helping, declaring it would scare the pants off the other kids. It looked like a cartoon wendingo more than anything, it wouldn't even scare a squirrel.

Jo sighed looking down at her watch. The play was going to start any minute and Dean was no where to be found. She shook her head, he was always late. He couldn't be on time if he had a gun pointed to his head.

Jo looked up at the lights began to flash signaling the beginning of the show. "Mommy," Anthony pulled on the corner of her jacket. "Where's daddy? He's going to miss it."

Jo wrapped an arm around her oldest son. Will was still too young to take to a play, he would just scream the whole time anyway. "I know, baby. He'll be here soon." She promised laying a kiss on the crown of his head.

Anthony pursed his mouth together sullenly and turned toward the small raised stage in the front of the room and Jo caught him shake his head.

She followed his gaze to see Honey poking her head out from behind the curtain, a glare falling on her small features. Only ten but she had a look of death that could melt any demon.

The lights dimmed and a small woman with full hips stepped on stage. "Hello and welcome parents, to Sioux Falls East Elementary school's adaptation of Young Frankenstein." She said clapping her hands, encouraging the crowd to do the same. "I hope you all enjoy the show and please join us afterward for Vampire punch and some Witches cookies," She said with a wink, walking off stage as the curtains opened.

The door to the lunch room slammed shut, "Sorry." A horse voice whispered.

Jo closed her eyes, sighing. Dean.

"Excuse me, 'scuse me." He said as he worked his way to the empty seat next to Jo in the middle of the row. When he reached her he took a seat and leaned close, "Really? The middle of the row? Couldn't have picked an isle seat?"

Jo smiled, her eyes glued to the stage, "Responsible parents who show up on time don't have to worry about shoving past twenty people to get to their seat. So yeah," She whispered turning to meet his eyes, nodding, "I picked the middle of the row."

Dean smiled mischievously. "Hey Jo. Miss me?" He whispered leaning in, the tips of their noses touching.

"Always," She answered leaving a quick kiss on his lips, she turned her attention back to her daughter on stage, who beamed, completely out of character, seeing her father had shown up after all. He had kept his promise.

Dean smiled wrapping an arm around Jo and rustling the hair on his sons head. He was finally home. And damn did it feel good.


End file.
